


The Nearness of You

by The_Oversharing_Skeptic



Series: The Witcher and His Vampire's [3]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mating Bond, Non-Graphic Violence only in chapter one, Warnings only apply to a small part in chapter one, courting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-02-23 14:14:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23879365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Oversharing_Skeptic/pseuds/The_Oversharing_Skeptic
Summary: Regis and Dettlaff try to court Geralt. The only problem is...Geralt didn’t get the memo.
Relationships: Dettlaff van der Eretein/Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy, Dettlaff van der Eretein/Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Dettlaff van der Eretein/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Series: The Witcher and His Vampire's [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1659268
Comments: 98
Kudos: 370





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was beta'd by gridelinCarver

Geralt was a man of his word.

When he said he would return for Orianna after seeing what her orphanage was truly hiding, he’d meant it. The image of Orianna drinking those children dry left a stain on the witcher’s mind. He needed retribution.

The orphanage was eerily quiet when he approached. It was past midnight with only darkness and the wind for company. Geralt’s ears were pricked for any sound, any movement, and as he moved closer the sound of silence was broken by a voice singing into the night.

Geralt chucked black blood as he walked to the back of the orphanage, towards a shack that overlooked a lake. Orianna, in her nightclothes, gazed at the stars reflected on the lake.

“Nice tune,” Geralt said, conversationally. He unsheathed his sword; there was no room for misunderstanding on why he was here.

Orianna chuckled and turned slowly.

“I see you kept to your promise, witcher,” she said, giving him a shy smile. In the moonlight she looked small and nonthreatening. But Geralt knew beneath the veneer was a vampire with incredible strength. She stared at him, sizing him up.

“No chance I could dissuade you from this suicide attempt?” Orianna said, lifting an amused brow.

“No,” Geralt replied, readying himself. The bruxa shrugged.

“So be it, witcher,” she said.

She turned invisible.

Geralt honed his senses, trying to discern the sound of her movements and was caught off guard when she latched herself on his back. Her mouth met his neck and soon she was drinking away at him. Geralt struggled but it was a ruse – he wanted her to drink the poison, even if it meant he was weakened by it.

Geralt felt lightheaded and grabbed his silver dagger, reaching into his back and plunging it into her neck. The bruxa shrieked, dislodging herself from the witcher and staggering back. The human visage that was Orianna was gone, replaced by her true vampiric form and a hideously angry expression on her face. She staggered and prepared to lunge.

“Come on!” Geralt shouted, more at himself than the bruxa. He braced himself for the next attack and watched the bruxa hiss at him.

She lunged at him, putting her strength into it but the poison was making quick work of that. Her movements were haphazard, sluggish, and ill timed. As she attacked him, Geralt got the upper hand but he was also weakened, also slower than usual, which was an advantage the bruxa took.

Geralt reached into his pocket for some swallow but Oriana was quick, knocking the potion out of his hands and grabbing onto him, aiming for his neck. Her face hovered above his and she was smirking.

“Not quick enough, witcher,” she said.

“Fuck you,” Geralt said, shoving her out off of him. She fell to the ground and took a moment to stand up, just enough time for Geralt to get his bearings. Something flashed in front of him, quick as lightning. Orianna, who seconds before had been standing, was now lying, immobile, on the ground. Where there had been a few feet of empty space between the witcher and the bruxa now stood a familiar figure with claws extended, back turned to Geralt. He was clad in all black, raven hair barely mussed by the attack. The claws retracted and the man, or rather vampire, turned around and looked at Geralt with cold, blue eyes.

“Dettlaff?” Geralt asked, surprised.

“I will finish this,” the vampire said nonchalantly, Geralt blinked.

“What – how?” Geralt began, but the adrenaline rush that had helped him throughout the fight and had kept him standing through the blood loss, now came crashing down. As it did, so did his consciousness.

The last thing he remembered was the concerned look on Dettlaff’s face before everything went black.

*

When Geralt woke up, he was in the master bedroom at Corvo Bianco. Alone.

He rubbed his face and looked around. He had bandages on his neck, but he didn’t feel any pain which only confirmed that he had been asleep longer than a few hours. He turned as he heard someone turn the door latch and walk into the room. The kind, if a bit disgruntled looking vampire smiled when he saw Geralt awake and attentive.

“Glad to see you’ve returned to the land of the living, my friend,” Regis said, taking a seat on the bed’s edge. Geralt laid back down with a huff.

“How did I end up here?” Geralt asked. At that question, Regis looked awkwardly at him.

“Ah yes, well, Dettlaff carried you in here,” Regis said and Geralt knew that if he could blush he would. Regis, seeing the distraught look on his friend’s face, chuckled.

“Rather gallantly, I might add,” Regis said smirking. Geralt rolled his eyes and rubbed his face.

“Shut up Regis, I was busy,” Geralt said. Regis nodded.

“Yes, our mutual acquaintance, Orianna. I admit, after hearing about her orphanage I was rather appalled,” Regis said, concerned, “What do you think will happen to the children now that they are no longer under her care?”

“I spoke with Ciri about it already, she found a replacement. Can’t let those kids go homeless,” Geralt said.

Geralt lifted himself up and sat on the edge with Regis. He gazed at his friend’s face, taking him in. Regis seemed tired but otherwise fine; his hair, once grey was now black with only a few streaks of silver. His skin no longer looked sickly, just pale. Geralt, who had always found Regis handsome, was now taken aback by how healthy and youthful the vampire looked.

“You look good Regis,” Geralt said before he could stop himself. Regis smiled abashedly.

“Dettlaff and I have been travelling a bit,” Regis admitted, “and I believe _that_ , along with the self-imposed isolation, has done wonders for my health”.

“What brings you back here?” Geralt asked, now faintly aware that he was shirtless.

“Why,” Regis started as though it were obvious, “you, of course”. Geralt blinked.

“Oh, right,” Geralt said. Regis chuckled, giving his friend a once over that made Geralt warm.

“Is it so hard to believe that I would want to visit you, my friend?” Regis asked. Geralt shrugged and looked away, trying to hide the excitement that he was sure was showing on his face. Then he remembered something.

“You…sure,” Geralt said, “Dettlaff not so much.” Regis gave Geralt a considerable look before replying.

“I would think that after last night you would realize Dettlaff wishes you no harm,” Regis said, “in fact he may even like you”.

“Feeding lies about me to your friend, Regis?” Geralt said, playfully. Geralt didn’t want to think about the fact that the vampire had saved him. He was still processing the fact that Regis was _here_.

“Truths are truths whether you find them acceptable or not, my friend,” Regis said with a smile, “and when I tell others about your great deeds, know that I do not embellish because it is unnecessary”.

Not knowing how to reply, Geralt stood up and stretched. He walked to a drawer and pulled on a shirt, feeling the need to leave his room and move the conversation to the dining area.

“Regis, I’m starving, want to join me?” Geralt asked, walking to his bedroom door. Regis nodded and followed him out.

*

“How long are you planning on staying?” Geralt asked when he finished eating. B.B. had approached Geralt to tell him how happy he was to see the witcher in good health and that Marlene had already spent most of the day preparing food for him and his guest. As always, she delivered with amazing platters and mouthwatering dishes.

Now the witcher and the vampire were sitting comfortably across each other with various empty plates between them. Regis was nursing a bottle of his mandrake brew and Geralt felt incredibly at peace.

“As long as you’ll have me,” the vampire confessed, passing the bottle to Geralt who took a large gulp, “Toussaint is a wonderful place to stay during the winter months which is why I imagine you’re staying here,” Regis said. Geralt hummed in agreement.

“Figured I had a nice home to come to during this time. The other seasons are dedicated to contracts. Be surprised though,” Geralt said shrugging, “Toussaint has plenty of monster troubles, even if the Duchess won’t admit it”.

“She’s asked you to take on another contract?” Regis asked, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. Geralt took another sip from the bottle and placed it gingerly on the table before replying.

“She asked me a few weeks ago to look into some murders that have been happening down south,” Geralt explained, “turns out the attacks where done by a group of werewolves who were following a head wolf who was doling out the curses.”

“You mean to tell me,” Regis interrupted, “that these werewolves sought to become cursed?”

Geralt nodded.

“Incredible, even though I must admit I’m surprised you agreed to take another contract with the Duchess”.

“Her people needed the help,” Geralt said shrugging. Regis gave him a tender look.

“Your kindness is paramount, Geralt”.

Geralt turned his head; Regis was giving him such a look of admiration that it made him uncomfortable. He took a deep breath and swallowed the feelings that were threatening to spill out from his mouth. Geralt decided to change the subject.

“You and Dettlaff can stay here as long as you’d like,” Geralt said, “I’ll have to get another bed for Dettlaff but I want you to know that the invitation is extended to him too. Can’t turn away someone who helped me”. Regis looked surprised but smiled kindly.

“I appreciate it my friend,” he said and to Geralt’s amusement he looked embarrassed before finishing “but don’t bother yourself with the extra bed – we won’t be needing it”.

Geralt stared at him, processing.

_Oh._

“Oh,” he said out loud, still staring. When no other words left his mouth, the vampire began to look uncomfortable.

“If your invitation no longer stands – “ Regis began.

Geralt scoffed.

“Of course, it still does. I was just surprised. I’m happy for you,” he finished. Regis looked relieved and Geralt tried his best to swallow his sadness without betraying his feelings.

Regis reached across the table and grabbed Geralt’s hand, taking the witcher out of his thoughts. Geralt looked down at their hands and didn’t move.

“I’ll let Dettlaff know and we’ll come to stay tomorrow. Tonight, I think, I should let you get your rest,” Regis said. Geralt rolled his eyes.

“I’m fine,” he said, “come tonight, I’ll have B.B. prepare the guest room while you’re gone”.

*

Dettlaff didn’t come that night.

Regis gave an excuse on his behalf but Geralt had a feeling that his friend told Dettlaff to give Geralt some space. Perhaps Regis thought that Geralt needed time to accept their relationship or maybe he wanted Geralt not to feel imposed on. Either way, Geralt made sure to make it perfectly clear that having the other vampire around was what he sincerely wanted.

It must have worked because the next night, Dettlaff visited him. Geralt was sitting outside in his garden when Dettlaff approached. The night was cool and Geralt found himself lost to the sounds of the swaying trees and vines. Regis had gone to bed early, after dinner, and Geralt had taken the opportunity to go outside and think.

He saw Dettlaff before noticing him, which was typical with higher vampires. It didn’t matter how sensitive witcher senses were, higher vampires moved like smoke in the wind.

Dettlaff stood awkwardly by the garden veranda entrance.

Geralt made a show of rolling his eyes and moving on the bench, indicating with his head that Dettlaff could sit. Dettlaff wordlessly walked over and stared at Geralt’s face. Geralt was beginning to fully appreciate what Regis meant when he said Dettlaff was naïve to human customs.

“Why’d you help me?” Geralt asked bluntly, turning to the vampire. Dettlaff’s clear blue eyes were made brighter by the night’s contrast and Geralt was taken aback by how kind they seemed, how open.

“Why did you invite me to your estate?” Dettlaff countered.

“Because you're Regis’ friend,” Geralt said, as though it were obvious. Dettlaff watched Geralt’s face, looking for something. Whatever it was he seemed to have found it.

“I saved you for the same reason,” Dettlaff said quietly. He looked away from the witcher and looked like he wanted to add more but kept quiet.

“I have no ill will towards you Dettlaff,” Geralt said, nudging the vampire with his leg to get his attention. Dettlaff looked at their joined legs with amusement, then turned to look at Geralt.

“You should know,” Dettlaff said, “that Regis and I came here for more than just a visit”. Now that was interesting. Geralt was not expecting that. It must have shown on his face because Dettlaff was quick to continue.

“Are you familiar with vampire packs, witcher?” Dettlaff asked.

“Only a bit,” he admitted.

“Packs,” Dettlaff said, “are formed between vampires and those with whom they have intense bonds. Regis is part of my pack and once, long ago, Syanna was as well”.

Geralt chose to remain silent.

“By extension, you are now part of our pack,” Dettlaff finished, looking at Geralt to gauge his reaction.

“Okay,” Geralt said, “doesn’t sound bad.”

“Not at all,” Dettlaff agreed, “it is the highest compliment one vampire can pay to another being”.

Geralt was taken aback but tried not to show it on his face. He stared at Dettlaff, taking in the handsome face and the blue-beyond-blue eyes. He was caught between the feeling of belonging that made itself felt when Dettlaff said _pack_ and the anxiety he was feeling towards all bonds made from magic.

“I appreciate you telling me,” Geralt said, after a moment. The vampire sighed and looked relieved which was…curious.

“Regis wanted to discuss this with you later, but I felt it important for you to know. I know,” he looked remorseful, “we did not leave on the best of terms”.

Geralt rubbed a hand over his face and the back of his neck, feeling tired.

“What I said still stands. You can stay here as long as you like,” Geralt said. Dettlaff’s eyes softened and that strange look appeared again on his face.

“Regis was right,” Dettlaff said, “your capacity for kindness is…overwhelming”.

Geralt felt embarrassment and something else tug at his chest. Rather than address it, he stood, hoping to quench it with action.

“Let’s go inside,” was all he said.

*

Over the next few days, the witcher and the vampires fell into a comfortable routine. Regis seemed to decide that the laboratory beneath the estate was his second home and would spend hours there. When Regis wasn’t in the lab, he was chatting with Marlene or passing the time reading in the garden. Dettlaff, during the first days, would be found hovering around Regis. Once he became more comfortable, he would wander to the stream next to the house or spend time with Roach in the stables. Geralt had even found the vampire wandering the vineyard, in the dead of night.

Having the two men around made Geralt acutely aware of how much solitude he had endured. True, Ciri would visit him from time to time and Dandelion and Zoltan were frequent guests – but they had all come and gone for short periods. Dettlaff and Regis not only stayed longer than the others had but they seemed to _belong_.

Geralt didn’t want to think about the day they would leave.

Especially since he was starting to _like_ Dettlaff.

During the afternoons, if Geralt didn’t have a contract, Dettlaff would join him during his training sessions. The vampire had awkwardly stood on the side, watching Geralt as he trained in his front yard. Finally, the witcher had enough.

“Wanna join?” Geralt asked, pausing and wiping the sweat from his brow. Dettlaff quirked a brow.

“You do realize,” he said, “that I will easily overpower you?” Geralt rolled his eyes as he walked towards his water skin and took a quick sip.

“Yeah but I’ve never wrestled a vampire so I’m sure it’ll be fun,” Geralt said, grinning. Dettlaff stood for a while, looking pensive. He then slowly nodded his head and began removing his jacket and shirt, revealing a pale, muscular torso.

Geralt looked away, momentarily glad that he couldn’t blush.

He hadn’t been prepared for _that_.

“Shall we?” Dettlaff asked, gesturing towards the yard. Geralt nodded and followed the vampire.

“Okay,” Geralt began, getting into a fighting stance - Dettlaff mimicked him.

“I’m listening, witcher”.

“No,” Geralt gestured to his face, “vamping out”. Dettlaff sent him a withering look.

“Does my form bother you that much?” He asked.

“No,” Geralt shook his head, “not at all, but it might shock the vineyard workers”. Detlaff nodded.

“I did not intend to”.

“Also,” Geralt continued, “no misting, unfair advantage”.

Dettlaff rolled his eyes.

“That goes without saying, witcher,” Dettlaff said. Geralt responded with a grin.

“Great,” he said, “Go.”

Dettlaff lunged.

If Geralt was being honest with himself, he knew he stood no chance. Dettlaff was too quick, too graceful, and far too strong for Geralt even on his best day. But Geralt wanted to fight Dettlaff because the vampire _could_ overpower him.

They were on the ground, Dettlaff hovering over Geralt with an infuriatingly superior look on his face as he easily out maneuvered every move Geralt gave him. Even when Geralt managed to get the vampire into a headlock, the vampire quickly dislodged from him and threw Geralt back on the ground. He looked incredibly smug.

“Enjoying yourself, witcher?” Dettlaff asked, pressing down on him. An all too familiar warmth spread through Geralt’s stomach at the gesture. Geralt willed the feeling away and distracted himself by rolling from under the vampire and standing up.

“Quite a bit actually,” Geralt responded, smirking. Dettlaff stood up and they went at it again.

They fought with Dettlaff winning _every time_. Even as Geralt learned the vampire’s strategy and began to make the matches more interesting, Dettlaff always managed to gain the upper hand. It made sense, but the challenge and the excitement made Geralt push past his limits, fighting against the vampire for almost three hours.

The sun was dipping beneath the sky when Dettlaff, once again, pinned Geralt down to the floor, grinning at his millionth win.

“I must admit, I am enjoying this immensely,” Dettlaff said. Geralt huffed a laugh.

“Shut up, Dettlaff,” Geralt said, trying to wriggle out from beneath the vampire. Dettlaff smirked and then stood, extending his hand and pulling the witcher to stand. Geralt went to grab his water skin and offered Dettlaff a drink, even though the vampire hadn’t even broken a sweat. Dettlaff accepted it and took a sip.

“Wanna do this again tomorrow?” Geralt asked, grabbing the water skin and taking a long gulp. Dettlaff chuckled.

“You wish to continue?” He asked.

“It was fun,” Geralt said easily. Dettlaff smiled, a true genuine smile, and nodded.

“It would be my pleasure”.

*

Dettlaff and Geralt practiced almost every day. Although the witcher never actually beat the vampire, he looked forward to the afternoons spent fighting him. It was a new, exhilarating experience and with it came a new found friendship between him and Dettlaff.

Geralt even liked the idea of Dettlaff being part of his pack. At first Geralt hadn't broached the topic with Regis, not wanting to disturb the comfortable pattern all three men had fallen into. As the days turned into weeks, though, Geralt decided it was high time he spoke to Regis about it.

Hilariously, this seemed to be the one subject Regis did not want to discuss in detail.

“So,” Geralt said playfully, sliding next to Regis while he was reading in the garden veranda, “Dettlaff revealed everything”. Regis, who mere moments ago looked calm, managed to become even more pale behind his book. He dropped it unceremoniously onto his lap and stared at the witcher.

“Dettlaff told you about—“

“Yeah,” Geralt quickly cut in, seeing his friend’s distress, “and I’m fine with it. More than fine,” he finished. Regis looked at him as though he grew a second head.

“I was under the impression,” he said, slowly, “that it would bother you. I did not want to harm our friendship”.

“Not at all” Geralt said smiling, “I mean I had to think about it, but I think it’ll work out”.

Regis just stared at him.

Not sure how to move the conversation forward and feeling uncomfortable at the usually chatty vampire’s silence, Geralt made to leave.

“Geralt?” Regis said, still looking stunned.

“Hmm?” Geralt turned, eyebrow raised.

“And Dettlaff as well?” Regis asked, looking at Geralt thoughtfully.

He shrugged.

“I like him, it’ll work out,” he said, “See you Regis”.

He almost missed the whispered farewell from his friend.

*

Geralt…Geralt felt like he was missing something.

The vampires were acting weird.

First, it began with gifts. Geralt thought the small presents were due to the fact that he had let them both stay at his estate – which was strange considering Regis was his friend and Geralt was getting along well with Dettlaff. But he accepted it and didn’t think about it too much until the other incidents that followed.

As it always seemed to be the case, it started with Dettlaff. 

Geralt was walking through his garden, examining his herbs when the vampire misted beside him. The witcher had gotten so used to Dettlaff’s random appearances that he didn’t even flinch. He turned to look at the vampire and saw that Dettlaff looked _shy_.

“Everything alright?” Geralt asked, curiously.

“Yes,” Dettlaff said, looking at the ground. He looked up and extended his hand, in it was a small box.

“This is for you,” the vampire said quietly. Geralt took the box, intrigued, and opened it. Inside was an intricate gold pin in the form of a wolf. Geralt stared at it before looking back at the vampire; he seemed anxious with anticipation.

“Dettlaff,” Geralt said, not sure how to react, “this is – “

“Do you like it?” Dettlaff asked earnestly.

Geralt nodded. He wasn’t exactly sure why Dettlaff was giving him a gift until it occurred to him that maybe Dettlaff was trying to show they were friends? Through human customs like gifts? Geralt wasn’t sure, but that _must_ have been the case.

“Do I like it?” Geralt asked, grinning, “Of course, thanks”.

Dettlaff smiled and looked relieved—which only seemed to confirm Geralt’s assumption.

“I’m glad,” Dettlaff said, giving the witcher a small nod. Geralt looked at the vampire.

“What is this for? I appreciate it but you don’t owe me anything,” he said.

“It is a token of my companionship,” Dettlaff said seriously, “I hoped that you would accept it and our relationship,” Dettlaff finished. Geralt looked confused.

“Of course, I do. I thought I made that clear,” Geralt said, surprised. Dettlaff looked surprised as well.

“I did not realize,” he said, looking at Geralt with that strange expression again.

Geralt shrugged, “I thought it was obvious, we hang out every day, Dettlaff”.

“And Regis?” Dettlaff asked, quietly, “do you accept his companionship as well?”

“Didn’t think that needed asking, but yeah, of course,” Geralt replied. He took the wolf pin out of the box and placed it on his shirt. The gold was bright against his dark shirt and glinted in the moonlight. He heard Dettlaff’s breath hitch. Before he could look up, the vampire was dangerously close to the witcher and was adjusting the pin. Geralt, who had accepted his growing attraction to the vampire, stood stunned, trying his best not to embarrass himself at the close proximity.

“Thank you,” Dettlaff said, placing his palms against Geralt’s chest when he finished. His eyes wandered from Geralt’s chest to the witcher’s face and, before Geralt could say or do anything else, Dettlaff misted away. Geralt stayed planted on that spot for a few minutes, feeling that he had missed something entirely.

Not long after Dettlaff’s gift did Regis come up with one of his own.

Geralt was sitting in his lab reading _The History of Cintra_ when his friend sat down next to him and placed a small package on his lap. Geralt looked up curiously from his book and stared at the package. He put the book down and turned to Regis who was looking at Geralt expectantly.

“What’s this?” the witcher asked. Regis looked sheepish.

“A small token of my affection for you, my friend,” Regis said, staring a hole into said package.

“Regis, you don’t have to—“

“I know you told Dettlaff as much, but I wanted to,” Regis explained and, well, what could Geralt say to that? He carefully opened the small package to reveal a set of beautiful leather gloves that made Geralt’s medallion vibrate.

“It’s magically enhanced leather,” Regis explained, “it will help you increase the intensity of your signs and do not get worn even after extended use,” the vampire finished proudly. Geralt stared at the gift, taken aback. He slipped them on for size and couldn’t find words to express his gratitude.

“Regis…thank you…this is amazing,” he said. Regis managed a wide grin which showed his fangs and Geralt was lost in the feeling of deep affection for the vampire. Regis grabbed Geralt’s hands and gave them a tight squeeze; Geralt’s breath hitched at the contact.

“You are very dear to me, my friend,” Regis said seriously. Geralt simply stared and nodded. Geralt became lost in the feeling of Regis’ hands on his own and felt an unnecessary and ill-timed warmth spread throughout his body. The vampire had the audacity to grin even wider and gently placed Geralt’s hands back on his lap. He stood, plucked the book Geralt was reading from his lap, and walked out of the lab.

It took a few minutes before it registered in Geralt’s mind that Regis had taken his book.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! Thank you for reading! :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge shout out to the wonderful @SosaSanctuary for helping me by betaing this story. Wonderful, showstopping, and magnificent person! Thank you :)
> 
> Enjoy! :)

Geralt was frustrated.

Sexually and emotionally frustrated.

The days passed with more contact between the Witcher and the vampires. Touch had become commonplace and that, in and of itself, was frustrating. With every lingering touch, Geralt found himself wanting more and more and hating himself for it. He loved being loved, but he knew that these weren’t the touches of romantic feelings but just friendship — just part of the pack. 

Nothing else. And, yes, it was nice but he wanted more.

Even with the nagging fear in the back of his head that said  _ this won’t last _ , Geralt still refused to address it with the vampires or to stop it altogether. Geralt was, apparently, a masochist because he just let them keep going.

And it only got worse — especially once Geralt started giving gifts of his own.

Geralt bought Dettlaff what he considered to be a humble whittling set. The witcher remembered how much the vampire seemed to enjoy fixing toys and figured that he would get a kick out of woodwork.

Said vampire had been sitting by the stream next to Corvo Bianco, lying on his back as he read. Geralt plopped down next to him and put the kit next to his leg. Dettlaff peered from behind the book to look at the box and immediately sat up. He grabbed the box cautiously and opened it, blue eyes lighting up when he saw what it contained.

“Is this for me?” he whispered, cautiously glancing at Geralt.

“Yeah,” Geralt said, rubbing his neck, “thought you’d enjoy doing something with your hands”. 

Dettlaff put the box down and turned to Geralt, smiling softly and gesturing to the witcher hands.

“May I?” he asked. Geralt, unsure of what exactly he was requesting, simply nodded.

The vampire took Great’s hands into his own. He gently placed one on his lap and carefully took off the other’s glove. He placed the glove on the grass and lifted the man’s hand to his mouth, turning it over and applying a gentle kiss to the witcher’s wrist.

Geralt gaped at the action.

He felt an intense warmth settle in his stomach. He tried to ignore it and failed miserably —it didn’t help that Dettlaff was giving him a smug look.

“Thank you,” Dettlaff said, in a tone that implied he knew exactly what effect his kiss was having on the witcher. Geralt nodded and stood up, walking away without saying another word to the vampire. He had something he desperately needed to attend to.

*

Maybe Geralt could’ve handled just Dettlaff.

But then Regis started doing it as well.

And that was significantly worse.

Geralt and Regis were comfortable around each other and sometimes Regis would touch the Witcher’s hand or bring him into a tight hug. That was normal and never breached friendly territory. What Regis started doing now, well, Geralt didn’t know how to label it.

The gift Geralt got for Regis wasn’t so much a gift as it was more a pleasant surprise for the vampire. Geralt had taken notice of just how much Regis enjoyed using his lab and thought he would give the vampire the notes he found in Professor Moreau’s lab. Regis was, after all, a scholar who enjoyed discoveries.

The witcher had wrapped the documents with a ribbon and had silently placed them next to Regis while he was absentmindedly writing notes. Regis quirked a brow and loosened the ribbon, shifting through the notes with increased speed as he continued reading.

“Geralt…Geralt what is this?” Regis asked, looking at Geralt with unconfined glee.

Geralt chuckled, “Notes I found in a lab not too far from here. This alchemist, Professor Moreau, wanted to reverse his son’s witcher mutations. Instead, he only enhanced his capabilities,” Geralt explained. Regis’ eyes widened.

“Geralt this is extraordinary,” Regis said, looking back at the papers, grinning to himself.

Geralt smiled back, allowing all of the fondness he felt for Regis to show, “Yeah, thought you’d like it,” he said, basking in the joy he felt at having made Regis happy.

Regis gave Geralt a considerable look.

“Are these…for me?” Regis asked softly.

Geralt shifted uncomfortably — he felt like he had been caught and didn’t know what to say.

“Well, yeah, I thought you’d enjoy it —“

Geralt stopped.

Regis’ hand was gently cupping his face and Geralt did not know what to do. He looked up, only 

to see Regis’ gaze filled with adoration. The vampire’s thumb gently rubbed his cheek and Geralt couldn’t help but lean into the touch.

He could get addicted to that sensation.

He probably already was.

“You are wonderful, my dear,” Regis whispered, “what an honor it is to have you in my life.”

Geralt gawked at the vampire — not sure what to say or do, but certainly not wanting to be rid of his touch.

“Uh, no, problem,” he managed, staring at the vampire’s bright black eyes. Regis smiled, extracting his hand and glancing back down at his gift. Geralt was sad to see it go.

If he left the lab in a daze, well— it was all of Regis’ fault.

*

A week after the lab incident, Geralt was commissioned for a contract that would take him away from Corvo Bianco for a few days. The Dracolizard population in the northern region of Toussaint had grown significantly and Geralt, being Geralt, promised to get rid of the beasts.

When Geralt told the vampires, they were visibly perturbed.

He could not understand why.

The vampires and the witcher were lounging outside; Regis was sitting next to Geralt, casually leaning against him while Dettlaff stood against the wooden railing — his profile accented gorgeously by the dying afternoon sunlight.

Geralt sank into the seat and allowed himself a brief moment to enjoy this — the warmth emanating off of Regis, the brightness of Dettlaff’s eyes, and the content feeling he had simply sitting there with two people he lo—

No.

He couldn’t think like that.

Eventually they would leave and Geralt would be left alone. Again. Better if he ignored his feelings.

As though sensing his distress, Regis’ hand gently massaged his scalp, soothing the witcher into a state of relaxation. He let his eye’s drift close, and sighed in contentment. He leaned closer to Regis, heart pounding when Regis pulled him to lay against his chest.

He needed to do something before he said something he couldn’t take back.

“Gonna be leaving for a few days,” he said gruffly. The hand promptly stopped.

Geralt’s eyes drifted open and he grimaced at the loss.

“Wherever to, my dear?” Regis asked, concerned.

“Got a few contracts up north — might take longer than usual,” Geralt explained. He turned to Dettlaff who was looking at him with a frown.

“What creatures are calling you from your retirement?” Regis asked, warm breath tickling Geralt’s cheek.

“Um…dracolizards,” Geralt said and if he snuggled closer to Regis, it was the vampires fault — not his.

“When will you return to us?” Dettlaff asked, taking a seat next to Geralt. He took one of Geralt’s hands and held it in his palm, drawing smooth circles on his skin. Geralt became lost in the comfort of Regis’ chest and the feeling of Dettlaff’s hand on his. He didn’t reply for a few moments and then felt a rush of embarrassment when he realized he had taken a while to answer.

“Shouldn’t be more than three or four days,” Geralt said. Dettlaff used his free hand to cup Geralt’s face and, yeah, it still made the Witcher speechless.

“We will miss you and wait for you every waking hour,” he said seriously, blue eyes bright and beautiful. Geralt swallowed and nodded.

“Sure you’re not tired of me?” Geralt asked playfully, trying his best to mitigate the feelings that were building in his chest.

“Never, my dear,” Regis replied and Geralt could hear the smile in his voice.

What a shame, Geralt thought as they settled into silence, that they won’t stay forever.

*

The next morning, when Geralt went to prepare Roach, he found himself the subject of two fretful vampires. Dettllaf was looming in the stables, looking to all like the broody vampire he absolutely was, while Regis was fidgeting with Roach’s saddle. When Geralt told Regis the saddle could not get anymore secure, he pulled at his satchel.

When everything was ready, Geralt turned to the two, casting a sad smile their way. Gods, he thought, I’m going to miss them — even if gone for a few days.

“I’ll see you soon,” he said softly. Regis nodded once and then seemed to make up his mind about something. He walked towards the witcher with a determined look on his face. Geralt raised an eyebrow, amused at the display.

Regis stood in front of him, searching Geralt’s face. He gently caressed the Witcher’s cheek, eyes growing soft and bright.

“Detlaff and I,” Regis hesitated, “we would like to kiss you farewell”.

Geralt blinked. Regis stared at him.

Geralt blinked again.

“You want to —“

“Kiss you,” Regis emphasized, “yes”.

Geralt turned to Dettlaff but the vampire was not laughing, so this could not have been a joke.

“Why,” Geralt took a deep stuttering breath, “why would you want to kiss me?”

It was Regis’ turn to look confused.

“Why ever not?” He asked with a tilt of his head. Geralt shrugged.

“I mean, it’s me so —“

“It’s precisely because it’s you that we want to be intimate” Regis said. Geralt remained silently confused. Regis turned to look at Dettlaff who looked equally as bewildered and then turned back to Geralt.

“Geralt…does your hesitation have to do with Dettlaff and I courting you?”

What.

“What?”

“Well we have been courting you for a few weeks and, although I know you made it clear that you were interested,” Geralt could not recall when that happened, “I still find it rather strange that you have not reciprocated to either of us. I believed, perhaps, that you were regretting the courtship.” Regis said, crestfallen.

And, because Geralt could not bear to see Regis sad, let alone because of him, his mouth worked faster than his mind.

“No, no, not at all,” Geralt said, still coming to terms with the fact that there had been a courting ritual to begin with.

Regis sighed with relief and Dettlaff cast Geralt a small smile.

“I am happy to hear it,” Dettlaff said as he brushed his hand against Geralt’s.

“As am I,” Regis said.

“I realize,” he continued, “that it is untoward and perhaps unromantic to discuss this openly but I wanted to ensure that it was something you wanted. I care about you deeply, as does Dettlaff, and we want you to feel comfortable in this pack”.

Geralt, who was now feeling overwhelmed, simply nodded. Geralt’s mind was racing but he wasn’t sure how to react. On the one hand, this was not a terrible situation. He felt deeply for Regis and was mature enough to admit that he had long ago developed feelings for Dettlaff. But he wasn’t exactly sure what he was getting himself into and couldn’t help but think about the djinn wish and how something simple had long standing consequences.

Regis smiled and placed a gentle kiss on Geralt’s cheek; Dettlaff mimicked the action. Geralt tried his best to formulate words but found speech almost impossible. After far too long, he jerked his head and said stiffly, “We’ll talk more when I come back, yeah?”

The vampires nodded and gave Geralt room to mount Roach. Geralt looked at them thoughtfully before giving them a small wave and exiting the stables.

For the first time in Geralt’s life, he was happy to see Regis and Dettlaff go. Because right at that moment, while riding away from Corvo Bianco, he felt like he had doomed the two people he loved to a lifetime of suffering.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And just like that, it's done! This story is finally finished! I want to give a giant thanks to the most amazing friend and beta, [Lutes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lutes_and_dandelions/works). Please please please read her wonderful stories, she's an amazing writer and I have her to thank for helping me finish this :) This final chapter exists due to her support!

The Dracolizards got the better of him.

Geralt managed to cull their numbers but came out more bloodied and bruised than anticipated. He fell victim to amateur mistakes in the heat of battle. Rather than concentrating on the dangerous task at hand, Geralt’s mind had wandered, repeating the same words over and over in his head.

_Does your hesitation have to do with Dettlaff and I courting you?_

When the job was finished and the reward collected, he found himself hesitant to return home. Going back to Corvo Bianco meant facing the vampires. It meant acknowledging what Regis had said and worse, acknowledging his own private feelings.

He wasn’t even sure _what_ he wanted to say to them.

While on the road, he’d thought a lot about Yennefer. For so many years he’d thought he was in love with her — even ached with passion for her. He never believed he could love anyone else, could even want anyone else. Then they found another djinn, broke their bond, and Geralt found himself feeling absolutely nothing. He cared for Yennefer and loved her dearly, but it wasn’t the obsessive love of a lifetime. It was a familial love, a precious love – yet not the love Yennefer still had felt for him.

He didn’t want the same thing to happen with Regis and Dettlaff.

He didn’t want the pack bond to break and then, as always, be left alone with feelings of guilt and shame. Guilt for having forced the vampires into a love they couldn’t possibly feel and shame for feeling so deeply without reciprocation.

He settled into a slow walk, feet dragging as he headed towards uncertainty. He took the slow route home.

*

Eight days after Geralt initially left his vampires, he returned to his vineyard.

It was dark and Geralt was tired and half starved. He was glad to have arrived at such a late hour – it meant that no one would disturb him while he grabbed a quick meal before jumping into bed. He didn’t want to face _anyone_ , let alone Dettlaff and Regis. Just the thought of seeing them made his stomach churn.

After settling Roach into her stable with food and water, he marched straight into the house. Geralt had barely crossed the threshold when two arms wrapped around him, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Are you alright?” A deep and muffled voice asked; it could only belong to Dettlaff. Geralt returned the gesture but when he tried to pull away Dettlaff only loosened his grip enough to check Geralt for injuries.

“I’m fine,” Geralt said, sheepishly. Dettlaff’s eyes narrowed at the gash on Geralt’s arm. It was almost completely healed but apparently the vampire either did not notice or did not care because he began herding Geralt towards the dining room table. Geralt was relieved to see plates of food and a goblet of wine ready for him. He was not so relieved to see a visibly upset Regis sitting beside it.

Geralt carefully sat across from Regis, feeling like a child preparing for a scolding. Regis watched him, silently, which only made Geralt’s heart sink further. The silence reminded Geralt of Yennefer. When she was angry her silences could be felt for hours until an explosive burst of anger finally erupted, causing more damage than good. Geralt couldn’t help but steal glances Regis, before staring off into the distance.

The vampire pushed a plate towards Geralt, startling him out of his thoughts.

“Eat,” Regis said gently. Geralt, not needing to be told twice, began eating, making sure to avoid the vampire’s eyes. Dettlaff took the chair next to him and Geralt could feel his eyes on him. He gently laid a hand on Geralt’s thigh and then entwined their fingers, giving them a tight squeeze. The comforting gesture only intensified Geralt’s guilt.

When Geralt finished, he looked up and winced at the worried look on Regis’ face. Geralt remained silent; thinking it was for the best. He couldn’t trust his mouth or his heart.

“Why were you gone for so long, Geralt?” Regis asked, looking at him with wide eyes.

Dettlaff looked at Geralt inquisitively, and he could tell the vampire was also feeling hurt. Geralt sighed, not sure how to begin.

“I was…scared,” Geralt confessed, looking down at his empty plate.

“Of?” Regis asked.

Geralt shifted in his seat.

“The…courting”.

“I see,” Regis turned away from him, apparently losing himself thought. The vampire’s shoulders were slumped and his eyes were bright. If it had been anger, Geralt would have felt better. Anger he was used to, but that? That deep rooted sadness? He couldn’t even begin to address it. Geralt desperately wanted to reach out to both Dettlaff and Regis, tell them that he was sorry, but the fear of rejection won and he remained quiet.

At the squeeze of Dettlaff’s fingers, Geralt looked up, letting his eye’s rove over the vampire’s face. Mustering his courage, he said, “I – I think we have a lot to discuss.”

Beside him Regis sighed, the noise making Geralt’s heart ache, before asking, “Would you like to discuss it after you’ve rested?” Regis asked, face still turned away.

“No,” he sighed, “I owe you both an explanation. I…I don’t want to hurt you more.” Regis gazed at him for a moment before nodding his head. He stood and circled around the table, eyes never leaving Geralt’s.

Regis glanced at the front door and the light peeking through the cracks. “Barnabas will surely be here soon. I take it you would prefer we move this discussion to your room?” he asked. Geralt nodded and squeezed Dettlaff’s hand. He followed Regis and Dettlaff to his quarters.

*

The two vampires sat on his bed while Geralt leaned against a wall. He was filled with nervous energy, unsure of how to start the conversation.

“So” he began, rubbing the back of his neck, “I’ve got a lot to say.” At that Regis made to speak but Dettlaff placed a hand on his shoulder, silencing him. “When I found out about the courting –“ Geralt tried to continue but Regis shot up from the bed, leaving Dettlaff’s hand to hang in midair.

“When you found out? Geralt, were you unaware this entire time that we were courting you?” Regis asked, looking shocked. Geralt shrugged.

“I didn’t know until you told me,” Geralt admitted, feeling embarrassed.

Regis turned to Dettlaff. “You said he accepted the courting,” he said, confused. Dettlaff, who looked equally stunned, was staring at Geralt.

“Yes, I asked Geralt if he would accept my gift as a token of companionship from me and you,” Dettlaff turned his head to the side, a look of deep contemplation on his face.

Geralt blinked, allowing the statement to sink in. “I thought you were just being…friendly,” he shrugged weakly.

Regis shook his head, giving Geralt an exasperated look. “My dear witcher,” Regis sighed, “is it so hard to believe that someone could love you that you refuse to see what is plainly in front of you?”

Geralt felt his shoulders tense at the question and saw Regis’ face soften at his discomfort. The vampire continued, in softer tones, “We wanted to court you and we gave you affection and gifts, surely you did not imagine that was all due to friendship alone?”

Geralt remained silent, not looking at either of them. He wanted to say _yes, of course because how could it be anything else?_ How could two wonderful people possibly like, let alone love, someone like —

He took a deep breath.

_Someone like him_.

Regis strode to Geralt and pulled him into a hug. He automatically wrapped his arms around the vampire, basking in the warmth. Leaning in, Geralt allowed himself to breathe in Regis’ scent – cinnamon and anise.

“Although our friendship is deeply felt,” Regis huffed, holding Geralt tightly, “and friends can show physical affection, I believe we made it abundantly clear that we wanted you romantically as well.” He pulled back from Geralt, grasping his arms and looking Geralt squarely in the face.

“We believed those gestures were well received,” Dettlaff frowned, sounding hesitant, “were we incorrect?”

Geralt took in a deep breath, taking a moment to collect himself before saying what was on his mind. “I can’t—” he closed his eyes and sighed, “I can’t imagine why you would want someone like me.”

For a moment, silence was his only answer. Then two hands cupped his face while another pair gently grasped his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“Oh, Geralt,” he heard Regis murmur. Giving into his desire to open his eyes, he looked between the vampires, gaze landing on Regis when he said, “We love you deeply. How could we not?”

Dettlaff smiled before saying, almost shyly, “I was intrigued when we met, enchanted when you allowed me to stay, and in love after...” Dettlaff looked away. Geralt raised an eyebrow and asked quietly, “After?”.

Dettlaff glanced at him. “After we began exercising together. To be near you, see you smile, and laugh. How could I possibly feel otherwise?” he finished seriously.

Geralt blinked at him. He wanted to argue with him, say it was impossible. How could Dettlaff love him after Beauclair, after Syanna, and, a hideous voice raged, _his own mutations_? And yet...he couldn’t deny what he saw in Dettlaff’s face. The unreserved adoration he let shine through those blue eyes silenced the voice. Because it was there, plain as day, and no amount of anger could take it away. Geralt shook his head, looked back down at the ground.

He willed himself to be brave.

“I love you,” he said to the stone floor, “both of you.” He let go of a shuddering breath and looked up to find Dettlaff grinning and Regis smiling gently.

“And we love you, my dear witcher”.

“Very much”.

Geralt let his gaze flick between them. “And this is something you both want?” he asked, still unsure.

“Absolutely,” Dettlaff said, stroking his hand.

“Ok,” Geralt said, nodding his head slowly, “ok”.

Regis leaned forward, staring into Geralt’s eyes, concentration written over his features. “Would you do us the honor of allowing Dettlaff and I to court you and commence a mating bond?” Regis asked seriously.

Geralt looked at Dettlaff, whose hand had not left his and Regis, who he had adored for so long. He took a deep breath and nodded. “I’d like that.”

That’s all it took.

Three simple words and Regis closed the distance between them.

His lips were softer than Geralt imagined and he kissed with the practiced finesse of someone who had loved tenderly and wanted to show that tenderness through touch. Geralt melted into the kiss, reeling at the possessiveness that Regis displayed. Through nips and languid caresses, he surrendered to the overwhelming sensations. Geralt was pulled away, only to find himself held by the other vampire, whose kiss was nothing like the first. Dettlaff kissed with his whole being, holding Geralt’s face with pronounced tenderness while the sheer passion and feeling seared his lips. Geralt leaned into the vampire and groaned when Dettlaff bit his bottom lip. When they finished Geralt was breathing heavily while Regis looked infuriatingly calm and collected and Dettlaff looked, if anything, smug.

“Geralt,” Regis said, in a husky voice that finally betrayed how much the kiss affected him, “in the future, please come to us with your concerns.” Geralt nodded and allowed Regis to pull him onto the bed and settle him on his side in the middle of the mattress. Dettlaff followed behind, grabbing Geralt from behind to snuggle into his back, pressing his forehead to the nape of Geralt’s neck.

Geralt felt a pang of adoration run through him at the gesture. He turned and pressed a chaste kiss to Dettlaff’s cheek before settling back on his side Regis ran his hand through Geralt’s hair, gaze soft.

“Sleep, my love,” Regis whispered, “you look ragged.”

“Thanks,” he chuckled, and between the warmth emanating from Dettlaff and the smooth ministrations of Regis’ hand, Geralt found himself falling asleep in seconds.

*

When Geralt woke the next day, he was disappointed to find himself in an empty bed. Rubbing his eyes, he decided to order a bath before searching for his vampires. Once he was lying in the steaming water his thoughts drifted to the previous night. If he hadn’t seen Dettlaff’s gloves in his room, he would’ve believed it had all been a dream. Sinking deeper into the water, he considered the situation.

Both Dettlaff and Regis wanted him. That much was now clear. And he wanted them too, that was obvious, too himself at least.

Now all that he had to do was show them just how much.

*

Geralt was not at all surprised to find Dettlaff sitting against a tree, reading. They were on a plateau that overlooked the entire estate, the afternoon sun doing wonders for both the view and Dettlaff’s handsome face.

Geralt knew Dettlaff had heard him coming, but the vampire made a show of putting the book down and looking at Geralt once he sat down. He looked at Geralt’s face, hesitating for a brief moment before placing a soft kiss on his lips. Geralt smirked into it and grabbed the vampire’s neck, pulling him in for a decidedly less chaste kiss. When he released Dettlaff, he was smiling.

“I very much enjoy,” Dettlaff whispered, “the feel of your lips, my little witcher”.

Geralt chuckled. “Little witcher?”

Dettlaff didn’t seem embarrassed at all. He pulled Geralt closer and started placing gentle kisses along his jaw as he spoke. “Am I not taller than you?”.

“Well…yes…”

“And are you not a witcher?”

“I get it, Dettlaff,” Geralt huffed, making a show of rolling his eyes. Dettlaff grinned and took the opportunity to push Geralt over and pin him to the ground, holding his wrists either side of his head. Geralt sighed but then forgot to be annoyed as he stared up at Dettlaff’s handsome face. He pulled one of his hands from Dettlaff’s hold and caressed the vampire’s cheek. Dettlaff smiled and leaned into Geralt’s hand.

“I adore you,” Geralt whispered so low a human would have struggled to hear it, but Dettlaff was not human. He leaned forward, pressing his body against Geralt’s as he pressed gentle kisses to his nose, then, playfully, his chin, before finally kissing his lips.

“I love you, my little witcher,” Dettlaff said, laying his head on Geralt’s chest. Geralt wrapped his arms around him, running a hand up and down Dettlaff’s back.

Geralt didn’t move and didn’t want to. He breathed in the scent of Dettlaff’s hair and tightened his hold. He could stay here, like this, for a minute more.

*

Geralt left Dettlaff to his book and decided to visit Regis in his lab. For some reason, the idea of seeing Regis after his confession was overwhelming. After years of pining, it still felt like the previous night was too good to be true.

Geralt’s heart sped as he descended the steps to the laboratory and it almost burst out of his chest when the vampire in question appeared in front of him.

“Hello, Geralt,” Regis smiled and Geralt was momentarily dumbfounded by the look of bliss on the vampire's face. Regis pressed a hand to Geralt's cheek and leaned in, he met Regis halfway. Geralt sighed into the kiss, content and unimaginably happy.

They kissed on the steps for what felt like an eternity. Regis’ hand moved from the Geralt’s cheek to his scalp, gently massaging him as he deepened the kiss. Geralt smiled, grasped Regis’ hip and pulled their bodies closer together. Eventually, Geralt leaned back, a grin on his face as he stared at the vampire. Regis rested his forehead against the witcher’s shoulder and sighed.

“That was quite wonderful,” he confessed, not lifting his head.

Geralt chuckled and pressed a kiss to Regis’ hair. The vampire lifted his head and studied Geralt’s face. “I know you were tired last night –”

“Regis—”

“—but I must ask –”

“ _Regis_.”

“—If this truly is something you—”

Geralt silenced him with a kiss. Regis pulled back, a small frown on his face.

“Geralt, that was incredibly rude,” he frowned.

Geralt shrugged in the face of his indignation, smiling bashfully. “Didn’t know how else to tell you that I want this,” he said.

Regis raised an eyebrow, eye’s momentarily clouding with confusion before shining with relief. “I apologize, my love,” Regis acquiesced, “I somehow convinced myself that last night was a figment of my imagination.”

Geralt drew Regis into a hug, making a pleased noise when the vampire relaxed against him. “No, I meant what I said,” he murmured, pressing his nose into the crook of Regis’ neck, “I’m happy with both of you”.

*

They passed the next few days as usual. Geralt continued to do his exercises with Dettlaff, now with the added benefit of having the vampire kiss him whenever he pinned him down, something which happened with wonderful frequency. Regis had begun making it a point to spend the afternoon hours sitting nearby, either avidly watching them or simply reading. He’d also taken it upon himself to help Geralt with his herb garden. Under the pretense of correcting Geralt’s ‘poor gardening technique’, Regis pressed himself flush against Geralt’s side as he explained the correct use of a trowel with far too many double entendres.

Geralt wouldn’t have it any other way.

He didn’t take a contract for the week, knowing that Regis, Dettlaff, and himself, were still on shaky ground, still not completely comfortable with one another after the revelation. Geralt could see it in Dettlaff’s occasional hesitation before touching him and Regis’ constant concern for his wellbeing. He wanted to do everything in his power to make the vampires felt like their love was reciprocated.

What was hilarious, if not a bit annoying, was the fact that now that all feelings were out in the open, it seemed like both Regis and Dettlaff were more prudent than ever before. They all shared kisses and casual touches but the heat behind them was muted, as though the vampires didn’t want to scare him away with their desires.

At first, it was _sweet_.

But after a week it was bordering on _ridiculous_.

Geralt knew they wanted him, he could tell by the way they reacted whenever Geralt pressed himself against them or when the kisses became more impassioned. There were times when Geralt was left panting and the dark, unrestrained look in their eyes screamed their desire to ravage him.

But they never did.

Exasperated and confused, Geralt surprised himself when he brought it up, fully intending to make them understand that it was perfectly fine for them to have their way with him. He mentioned it over dinner, which caused Regis to promptly choke while Dettlaff frowned at Regis, concerned but only slightly. Geralt supposed it wasn’t like Regis could _die_ from the affliction, but it was strange to see him in such a state of disarray.

Once Regis managed to dislodge the rogue piece of meat, Dettlaff illuminated the situation. “We simply want to take the courting slowly,” Dettlaff explained, “We would like to do it correctly”.

Geralt shook his head. “But you are. Consider me courted,” he said, with just a hint of the exasperation he was feeling.

Regis chuckled, having finally regained his composure. “Don’t worry, my love, all in due time”.

*

‘In due time’ apparently meant some time away because after another week of awkward moments where Geralt was left wanting more than he was willing to admit, he decided to speed along the process. He could tell that the vampires wanted to move forward but felt awkward doing so. Geralt would catch Regis’ eyes turning red at the mere sight of Geralt and Dettlaff wrestling and could feel just how affected Dettlaff was when the vampire pinned him to the ground.

So, he decided to tease things along. Starting with the afternoon exercises.

Geralt and Dettlaff met as usual in the courtyard, already shirtless and ready when Regis arrived with his book, acting casually, so as not wanting to reveal his plans. Dettlaff wordlessly moved into his fighting stance, patiently waiting for the witcher. Geralt bent low and then lunged.

After weeks of training Geralt had finally managed to make Dettlaff work a bit to pin him down. It didn’t bother Geralt too much, considering that if he could ever manage to best a vampire then any future adversaries would be comparatively simple.

Even so, Geralt rolled his eyes when the vampire pinned him to the ground, a smirk dancing on his lips. Dettlaff leaned down far more than was necessary, pressing himself against Geralt’s body. He couldn’t help the broken whine at the feeling of Dettlaff’s hips against his own. Halting immediately, Dettlaff’s blue eyes widening, first with concern and then intrigue.

Geralt looked up at Dettlaff with a completely innocent expression.

Schooling his features into a perfectly innocent expression, Geralt looked up at Dettlaff through half lidded eyes and said, “Damnit, you got me. Go again?”

Dettlaff coughed, confusion flitting over his features before he looked away, pulling himself up and offering a hand to Geralt, briefly glancing towards Regis. Geralt noticed that the vampire’s eyes were still, staring at the book page but certainly not reading it.

“Yes, again,” Dettlaff agreed, face once again impassive. Once again assuming their fighting stances, there was a beat of stillness before they both pounced. Geralt allowed himself to fall harder than intended when Dettlaff pinned him, this time releasing a loud moan as he did so. The vampire looked concerned, his eyes darting between Geralt’s face and torso, looking for signs of injury.

“Are you alright?” he asked. Pushing himself up on his elbows, Geralt brushed a gentle kiss against Dettlaff’s lips, momentarily stunning him. He could hear the vampire’s heart rate speed up and smugly attributed it to their position. Geralt didn’t need to look at Regis to know that he’d put his book down and was watching his two lovers attentively.

“I’m fine,” he smirked, “Let’s go again.”

Dettlaff hesitated before nodding. Scant seconds later their bodies collided at wicked speeds, arms and legs tangling together in an attempt at domination. Dettlaff’s face was serious and it endeared him to Geralt. He couldn't wait for an opportunity to get Dettlaff to relax. Luckily for the vampire, he had a very _particular_ activity in mind.

Within a few moments, Dettlaff pinned Geralt down, however this time Geralt planned it in such a way that the vampire caught him from behind, arms wrapped tight around Geralt so his back was pressing against Dettlaff’s chest. Geralt was breathing hard from exertion but the vampire was incredibly calm. Feigning innocence, he sighed in defeat. Dettlaff, for his part, didn’t seem in a rush to move from his position. _Good_ , Geralt thought.

Regis was staring openly at them, mouth tight and eyes bright. Geralt smirked at him before sliding a hint lower and dragging his backside against Dettlaff’s half hard cock. The reaction was instant. Regis’s breath hitched while Dettlaff shuddered against him, arms relaxing. Taking advantage of Dettlaff’s distraction, he swiftly turned in Dettlaff’s hold, pushing him backwards. Dettlaff landed on his back with a huff and then barely held back his moan as Geralt straddled his hips.

Regis groaned an exasperated expletive as Geralt leaned in towards Dettlaff’s ear and whispered, “I win”.

Dettlaff didn’t bother to reply.

Quickly climbing to his feet, Geralt offered his hand to the vampire, which he took albeit begrudgingly by the look on his face. Once he was standing, Dettlaff stared at him, and Geralt couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes darted between his eyes and his lips, clearly conflicted. Regis was immobile in his chair; he wasn’t even breathing. Geralt stretched his arms, grabbed his shirt and left the two gaping vampires to stare after him as he walked towards the house.

*

After that, things improved significantly but not as much as Geralt would have hoped. Dettlaff and Regis were flirtatious and now there was way more petting involved, but it seemed like they were still holding back, still worried about overstepping boundaries.

He wanted to prove to the vampires that he was theirs. He wanted, more than anything, to show that he was willing to keep them in his life and accept the mating bond. It took Geralt a bit of thought, but finally he came up with an idea that he was sure would settle the situation once and for all.

*

“We’re going to Nazair,” Geralt announced, to two very sleepy vampires. Dettlaff grumbled against his pillow but after a few moments Regis looked at him, eyes alert.

“Whatever for?” he asked curiously.

Geralt grinned and lay between the two. He planted a kiss on Dettlaff’s shoulders, making the vampire shift a bit. The broody vampire had a habit of sleeping on his stomach with his face planted into his pillow. If Geralt didn’t already know that vampires didn’t need to breathe, he would've been concerned. As it stood, he was more amused than anything else.

Geralt shrugged, “Figured we could use a vacation and—well— I’d... like to see Dettlaff’s home.” That finally caught Dettlaff’s attention, he turned and stared up at Geralt. Unable to take the scrutiny, Geralt looked away, hoping he didn’t look as sheepish as he felt.

Regis was grinning like a fool. He twisted towards Geralt and planted a sweet kiss on his lips saying, “I believe that is a wonderful idea, my love.”

Before Geralt could reply, two arms wrapped around him, pulling him back against a warm, solid chest. Dettlaff held him close and scented his neck. It made Geralt shiver, though neither vampire acknowledged it.

“I adore you, my little witcher,” Dettlaff whispered against his neck. Geralt pressed back into him, basking in the comfort being in the vampire’s arms brought him.

“We’ll leave tomorrow”.

*

The vacation was only one part in a two-act plan. Geralt knew the trip in its entirety would take him and his lovers away from the estate for a month. This boded well for the instructions he left B.B. for his return to implement some further renovations around the vineyard. He was excited, both for the time away with his vampire’s and the surprise they would have when they returned to Corvo Bianco.

The trip to Nazair was quick, even if Regis and Dettlaff were uncomfortable travelling by horse. Dettlaff, who had never ridden a horse, had insisted on alternating between walking, misting or riding with either Geralt or Regis, Regis rode a horse that Geralt had affectionately named Roach Two. However, unable to let that stand, Regis had renamed her Luna but in Geralt’s mind, she was still Roach Two.

They travelled leisurely to Nazair’s coast, their destination a rented property on one of the country's many beautiful, sandy beaches. It had been B.B who had suggested the place upon hearing of Geralt’s plans. He’d immediately sent off a letter and a purse of florens to the Nilfgaardian noble who owned the cottage. Two weeks later they’d received an affirmative reply that included an address and the dates with which they’d have the property to themselves, fully stocked with food and drink. 

And the cottage did not disappoint. It was simple, with a dining area, kitchen, a large bedroom that overlooked the beach, and Geralt would argue most importantly, good stables. The nearest cottage was so far away Geralt considered them to be completely alone.

Geralt left the vampires to unpack their things while he settled the horses in the stables. However, when Geralt returned to the cottage, he was surprised to find it empty. Shrugging, the witcher removed his armor, grabbed a book from the small selection on the dining room sideboard and took a seat at the table. But the journey quickly caught up with him, and halfway through the first chapter he fell asleep.

*

Geralt woke with a start as two hands gently shook him. His neck cracked as he straightened it, and his shoulders burned from the awkward position he slept in. Bright blue eyes stared at him in amusement.

“We made dinner, little witcher,” Dettlaff said.

Geralt blinked at him a few times, still sleepy, before mumbling, “Where’s Regis?”

“Right here, my love,” the vampire answered from the kitchen. Geralt stood stiffly and stretched, aware of the blue-eyed vampire’s appreciative gaze. He smirked at Dettlaff, who raised an eyebrow and returned the look.

“Did you have any specific plans for this ‘vacation’?” Dettlaff asked nonchalantly.

Geralt shook his head, feigning ignorance, before answering with a grin, “None whatsoever.”

Regis bustled past and started preparing the table. Geralt and Dettlaff helped and within moments they were settled, enjoying a fish broth that Regis had made. The smell of spices and herbs were in the air and Geralt felt completely at ease and comforted. When the meal ended, he figured it was as good a time as ever to bring up what had been bothering him for the past week. Both vampires sat next to him, which made craning his neck as he spoke difficult...but he figured he could have worse problems.

“Listen—” he started, tone immediately catching their attention. Regis cast him a worried glance while Dettlaff seemed to hold the breath he didn’t need. Geralt felt a hot wave of guilt churn his stomach but he continued, “I know you both are still unsure about this relationship. I wanted to make it clear that I want to have you both in my life and…I want to complete the mating bond.”

The vampires visibly relaxed and so did he. He hadn’t realized how anxious he was to get it out of his system and finally, looking at the two, he was happy the air was clear.

“That is—” Regis shuddered a breath, “very good to hear, my love. We didn’t want to push you beyond your boundaries”.

“I know and I appreciate it, but I need you to know that I want this and everything it entails,” he said, clearly, not wanting to leave any room for confusion. They’d had enough of that for the past few months. Dettlaff reached out and took his hand, squeezing it in understanding.

“Are you sure? Once we become mates, the bond we will share will be quite extraordinary,” Regis pressed, not one to be easily won over.

“Bonds may be broken but we do not wish that so, if it is something you would hesitate to continue with, I’d rather know now,” Dettlaff confessed, looking away. Geralt was briefly reminded of Syanna and realized the depth of Dettlaff’s words. He needed to know that Geralt wouldn’t be anything like her. That Geralt wouldn’t run away at the first hint of the reality of mating with two vampires, that Geralt wouldn’t flee from its intensity, that Geralt wouldn’t desert them, desert _him_. Geralt brought Dettlaff’s hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to his palm, a gesture that was hopefully a clear sign of supplication and trust.

He looked directly into Dettlaff’s eyes and repeated, “I want the bond, and everything it entails”. Dettlaff stared at him, eyes open and honest, and nodded his understanding. He turned to Regis and was pleased to see he looked equally as assured. Regis got to his feet and moved to stand behind them. Geralt watched him turn Dettlaff’s head and press a kiss to his forehead before mirroring Geralt’s earlier gesture to Dettlaff by taking Geralt’s hand and kissing the palm.   
  
“I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted this,” Regis confessed.  
  
“I know the feeling,” he smiled, feeling playful and giddy at the corner they’d just turned, “I know”.

*

When they entered the bedroom, Geralt reached out to his lovers and they answered his touch. They stumbled into bed, grasping each other with abandon. Geralt couldn’t recall the last time he’d felt such pure affection. Every touch was electrified and, every caress, intense. If he hadn’t been confident that they hadn’t sealed the mating bond, Geralt would’ve blamed it on that.

They made quick work of their clothes, not caring where they fell. Regis pulled Geralt towards him, drawing Geralt closer until his back was firmly pressed against Regis’ chest. Regis buried his face in Geralt’s neck, leaving teasing bites in his wake. Geralt couldn’t help the pleased gasps and muffled moans the touches drew from him. While Regis sucked loving bruises to Geralt’s skin, Dettlaff kissed Geralt with reverence.

“We would have you like this,” Dettlaff whispered, hot breath tickling Geralt’s lips, “Every day, whenever you please, little witcher”.

Geralt wanted to reply but Regis was rolling him until Geralt was laid out on his back, his teasing mouth moving on from his neck, to his chest, licking and sucking his way down Geralt’s body. He panted, aching for Regis, warmth spreading lower with each touch.

Regis breath ghosted over his cock. “I have thought of this moment many times,” Regis confessed, “and I must say, this is far better than I imagined”.

“Please Regis,” Geralt pleaded, voice a hoarse moan, canting his hips up and brushing his cock against Regis’ lips. Regis chuckled and took him in his mouth, punching a loud groan from Geralt. Regis sucked him with practiced finesse, all Geralt could do was grip Regis’ hair and watch his own cock disappear into that wonderful mouth as Regis took him higher and higher. Seemingly spurred on by the hold in his hair, Regis took him in deeper, nose pushing into the curls at Geralt’s base.

Geralt felt the head of his cock hit the back of Regis’ throat and shuddered, about to peak. “Fuck, Regis, I’m going to—” he gasped, unable to finish his sentence.

Regis let Geralt’s cock slip free from his mouth just before he could come. He was about to protest but stopped himself at the _look_ Regis was giving Dettlaff. Face full of delight, Dettlaff’s eyes caught Geralt’s and he grinned.

“We are going to bring you such pleasure, little witcher,” he said, turning Geralt’s face towards him with a hand on his cheek and planting a sloppy kiss to his lips; Geralt let his hands find Dettlaff’s waist. Regis pressed his face into Geralt’s thigh, allowing Geralt to feel just how close Regis’ mouth was to his cock. He arched his hips in a silent plea.

“Use your words,” Regis admonished.

Geralt tore his lips free from Dettlaff and gazed down into eyes bright with amusement. “Please Regis,” he croaked, “please just— _oh_.”

Regis licked along Geralt’s length, smirking as Geralt whined. But just as Geralt was about to sink his fingers back into Regis’ hair, he stood, and Dettlaff took his place. Grabbing Geralt’s legs with firm hands, Dettlaff placed one over his shoulder and then, with a hand in the crook of Geralt’s knee, pushed it towards Geralt’s chest, baring him to the vampire.

“If you please,” Dettlaff murmured, nodding his head at Geralt’s knee as he released it. Geralt did as asked, grabbing the back of his own thigh to hold himself open. Regis stood next to the bed and handed Dettlaff a bottle of oil Geralt didn’t know he owned.

“Dettlaff—” he began at the touch of fingers against his hole.

Dettlaff looked up and smiled. Wordlessly, he teased Geralt’s entrance, slipping in one finger at a time and drawing out noises from his lover. Regis stared at Geralt, cock in hand, and a devious expression in his face.

“You’re going to suck me off while Dettlaff fuck’s you, dearest,” Regis said, voice dark.

Geralt’s mind went blank before moaning, “Fuck, yes.”

Geralt reached out and pulled Regis towards him, not stopping until Regis was straddling his face. He took Regis’ cock into his mouth, sucking it eagerly, straining his neck to take as much as possible. Regis rolled his hips, grabbing Geralt’s hair and tugging it sharply. “At my pace, Geralt,” he admonished. Geralt nodded minutely, letting Regis take the lead.

Dettlaff warned him before easing the head of his cock Geralt, but as the vampire slowly sank into him, it took all of Geralt's willpower not to come. Geralt’s body became a vessel of sensations. He felt warm and complete while Dettlaff made love to him, kissing Geralt’s thighs as he claimed his body. Regis worked Geralt’s mouth, taking his pleasure but keeping a constant eye on Geralt’s wellbeing. It made Geralt’s chest fill with warmth.

It didn’t take long for the witcher to succumb completely to the feelings radiating through his body, his own release pushing both of his vampires over the edge with him. Dettlaff pounded into him, biting his calf and drawing blood as he came, while Regis growled, bucking his hips into Geralt’s mouth and pulling on the witcher’s hair with controlled strength as he peaked. Regis grabbed Geralt’s hand and bit his wrist, staring into Geralt’s face as he licked the blood away.

The sight made him frown with worry for Regis. He’d known the bond required mating bites but knowing and seeing were too very different things. Regis’ eyes fluttered closed as he once again ran his tongue over the bite mark. With a shudder, he gently placed Geralt’s hand on his chest, thoroughly licking his lips. Geralt couldn’t imagine the sheer amount of restraint Regis had just displayed. Regis, seeing the look of concern on Geralt’s face, gave a small smile. “It’s all right, my love.”

Geralt distantly registered a presence in his mind, but he couldn’t pin it down. He was too flushed, too tired, to really analyze the completed bond. Dettlaff and Regis lay next to him and wrapped him in a tangle of arms and legs. He huffed a laugh at their possessiveness and enjoyed the idea of having two physically expressive lovers.

If he had any apprehension about having Dettlaff and Regis as mates, the sound of Regis’ calm breath and the adoration in Dettlaff’s eyes were enough to assuage him. He pulled them tightly together and finally found peace.

*

When Geralt woke up, it wasn't to an empty bed but to one dozing vampire and another alert one. Dettlaff watched Geralt with fondness, pulling him into a chaste kiss when he saw he was awake. Geralt leaned his forehead against Dettlaff’s and pressed forward for another. It was soft, careful, and spoke more about the love they felt for one another than words ever could. Dettlaff’s hand lightly cupped Geralt’s cheek and Geralt smiled at the sweetness of it. They kissed for a long time, the movements becoming steadily slower, more languid, as they both drifted back towards sleep.

“I am yours, little witcher, for as long as you would have me,” Dettlaff murmured against Geralt’s lips. Geralt watched him, playfully kissing his chin before answering.

“Might be a long time, a whole lifetime even,” Geralt said, watching the vampire. Dettlaff’s face broke into a satisfied smile and he pulled Geralt closer.

“Nothing would make me happier,” he sighed, sleep overtaking him. Geralt closed his eyes and followed Dettlaff into his dreams.

*

When Geralt woke again, his head was in Regis’ lap, and the vampire was softly massaging his scalp with expert fingers. Geralt sighed, preening at the attention and care. If this was what having mates was like, his only complaint was that he hadn’t bonded with them sooner. He pressed his head farther into Regis’ lap, receiving an amused chuckle in response.

“Years of witcher training, lost at the hands of a handsome vampire,” Geralt mumbled, making no indication that he would move. He could hear Dettlaff moving about in the kitchen making breakfast? Lunch? Dinner? Geralt found that he really didn’t care.

“Handsome vampire, you say?” Regis replied, amused, smile obvious in his tone. Geralt opened his eyes and looked up at the grinning vampire's face.

“Always thought you were,” Geralt said honestly, “always will”.

The grin turned fond as Regis continued to gaze at him. “I am completely enraptured by you, my dear,” he said, cupping the witcher’s cheek, “and I would do anything for you.”

“Then continue massaging me please,” he smirked, “it’s nice.” Regis rolled his eyes but did as he was asked.

“You require adoration and care. We will endeavor to provide it to you, dearest,” Regis said, tucking a strand of Geralt hair.

Geralt frowned. “I don’t expect –”

“It is not about what you expect, my love,” he interrupted, “but what you deserve and what we want to give. And that is all the love we can provide.”

Geralt stared at him, throat closed, unable to speak. He felt an overwhelming sense of love towards the vampire, but it was also mingled with something else. Something he rarely liked to acknowledge. Geralt would be lying to himself if he didn’t admit he wanted caresses and whispered endearments, but voicing that aloud, saying that he wanted the care and kindness Regis and Dettlaff promised was another thing altogether.

“I think—” he licked his lips, at a loss for words, “I think that would be good.”

He sat up and lifted his head for a kiss which Regis freely gave. Dettlaff walked in and didn’t hesitate in his movements as he placed various lovely smelling breakfast foods on the bed. Geralt pulled back from Regis and looked up to see Dettlaff watching them, eyes intent. He reached out a hand towards Dettlaff which he eagerly took, threading their fingers together.

They ate breakfast together, Geralt sitting between Regis’ open legs while firmly holding Dettlaff’s hand. From time to time Regis would hold a piece of fruit to Geralt’s lips and Geralt would carefully take it from him, making sure to suck and lick and Regis’ fingers as he did so. Dettlaff quickly joined in the fun, pressing pieces of orange to Geralt’s lips and making breathy sounds whenever Geralt licked his fingers.

It didn’t take long for them to forget the food altogether.

*

The weather was too cold to truly enjoy the beach but that didn’t stop Geralt from diving in, naked, with two amorous vampires on his heels. They kissed and fondled each other to the sounds of crashing waves and the smell of salt in the wind. When they made love in their cottage, still wet from their swim, they could taste salt on each other's skin. Geralt took both of them in turn and gave just as much as he received.

In their actions there was no jealousy. In their caresses, there was only acceptance and want. The love Geralt received from Regis and Dettlaff was both passionate and kind. There was no question that they wanted his body, laying claim to it every night. And there certainly was no doubt in Geralt’s mind that this was a love that could not be tarnished by mistrust. A heaviness Geralt didn't realize he carried from his previous affairs began to lift.

He even started believing that maybe he deserved this kind of affection.

*

The ride back to Corvo Bianco was as smooth as it could possibly be.

Although Geralt missed the luxury of being completely removed from society and witchering with two people he loved dearly, he wasn’t sad to go. He would, he realized, wake up every morning to Regis’ soft snores and Dettlaff’s sighs. He could, whenever he wanted to, reach out and grab Dettlaff’s hand or kiss Regis’ cheek. Life, he realized, had many sweet promises in store. Their trip to the coast was not an ending, but a beginning.

*

Dettlaff was the first to realize that something had changed. While settling the horses into their stables, Geralt saw Dettlaff shoot an inquisitive look over at the small cabin now visible from the stables.

“Did you add something while we were away?” Dettlaff asked, tilting his head. Geralt, unable to hold back his adoration, gave the blue-eyed vampire a peck on the lips after bolting Roach’s stable closed.   
  
“I have a few surprises for you two,” he admitted, rubbing his neck. Regis exited Luna’s stable and wrapped his arms around Geralt’s waist, pressing his face into his shoulder.

“Is that so?” he asked, amusement obvious in his tone. Even though the vampire couldn't see it, Geralt rolled his eyes.

“Come on,” he said, pulling free of Regis’ hold to take his hand, grabbing Dettlaff’s with the other, “I’ll show you”.

He led them to the cabin first. BB, as attentive as always, was already waiting outside the cabin’s door, key in hand.

“My good Sirs,” he said, nodding his head and holding out the key for Geralt to take. “Both the workshop and the laboratory are ready for your inspection”.

Geralt nodded, letting go of both vampire’s hands to take the key. “Thanks BB,” he grinned. The majordomo took his leave and Geralt turned to face his two lovers. “I had some renovations and additions done,” he explained, “because I wanted to show you that you have a place here”. He was desperately glad that he couldn’t blush, because the heat in his face and nervousness in his stomach was overwhelming.

Regis raised an inquisitive brow. “My dear, you didn’t have to”.

Geralt raised a hand. “I know. But I don't want either of you to ever feel like I don't want you around. Had you feeling like that once, don't intend to do it again”. Without waiting to hear their replies, he opened the cabin door and walked in.

The cabin was fashioned like a workshop, with various tools lining the walls and supplies neatly organized on various cabinets and shelves. One wall was dominated by a large window, giving the cabin a wonderful view of the grapevines, the other walls held sconce brackets so the workshop could be used at any time of the day. A large workbench stretched the length of one wall and a smaller table sat in front of the window, filled with paint brushes and pots of paint.

Geralt watched breathlessly as Dettlaff took in the sight. The vampire’s beyond blue eyes widened as he looked around, hands shaking as he touched the table's top. Geralt leaned against a wall, glancing between Dettlaff and Regis, the latter seemed just as surprised at the gift.

“Is this…?” Dettlaff trailed off, unable to voice his question. He looked at Geralt expectantly, like a child who was being presented with a wrapped gift.

“For you, yeah,” Geralt said, looking away, “I know how much you like drawing and figured you enjoyed woodwork after seeing your toyshop so – _ooph_!” The rest of Geralt’s sentence was cut off when Dettlaff wrapped Geralt in an enthusiastic hug, literally stealing the breath from Geralt’s lungs. He chuckled and squeezed Dettlaff back. Dettlaff did not seem like he was going to let go before sunset so Geralt extracted himself after pressing a kiss to his lips. Dettlaff chased the kiss, looking at Geralt like he had placed the sun in the sky just for him.

“Do you like it?” Geralt asked, unable to shake his nervousness.

Dettlaff smiled, open and honestly, “Very much.”

“I daresay, you will find it difficult to extract him from here,” Regis chuckled, watching them with fondness.

Geralt shrugged and grabbed Regis’ hand. “Don’t think I left you out, come on,” he said, pulling Regis out of the cabin. Dettlaff gave the cabin a long glance before following them. They walked to the laboratory entrance and Geralt, feeling giddy, pulled Regis close, and placed his hands in front of his eyes.

“No peeking,” he teased. Geralt couldn’t see Regis’ face, but Geralt could feel the way his eyes creased at the corners when he smiled, and the vampire allowed Geralt to guide him down the steps. Dettlaff followed behind, ignoring Geralt’s request and curiously looking over them. When they reached the bottom, Geralt slipped one hand over Regis’ eyes and used the other to cast a quick igni and grinned as the room lip up.

“Go ahead,” Geralt said, uncovering Regis’ eyes and standing next to him.

A gasp escaped Regis’ lips as his eyes roved around his new laboratory. The lab, which had been constricted to a small space because of the stored wine barrels, had been expanded through the removal of said barrels. One wall was filled wall to ceiling with books, a comfortable chair and table sitting neatly in front of the shelves. The opposite wall was lined with a workbench, covered with beakers of various size and shape, and contraptions of scientific origin. Large brass tanks sat against the far wall and Regis’ skeleton greeted them from a corner.

“Geralt,” Regis choked, “I….I am at a loss...this is...my dear, this is—”

“The love and affection you both deserve,” Geralt finished. Regis turned to him, a bright gleam in his eyes. He stared at Geralt and then, in two steps, moved to stand in front of him. The vampire grabbed the back of Geralt’s neck and pulled him down for a kiss. It was brief and chaste, but the appreciation was felt.

“How truly lucky we are,” Regis murmured against his lips, “to have you as a mate”. Geralt sighed and extended his hand. Dettlaff grabbed it and joined in their closeness, leaning against Regis.

“Feeling’s mutual,” Geralt said. The smell of cinnamon filled his nose, coupled with the patchouli he had come to associate with Dettlaff. Geralt pulled them even closer, not wanting to break the spell.

They could stay like that for a moment longer.

*

They were sitting out on the terrace, sharing a bottle of wine between them and basking in the warm afternoon sun. Geralt rested his head on Dettlaff’s shoulder and hummed as Regis toyed with his hair.

Regis chuckled and Geralt turned to look at him. “What?” he asked, amused.

“I cannot believe you did not realize we were courting you,” Regis teased, laughing again at Geralt’s expense.

Geralt rolled his eyes and pressed himself more firmly against Dettlaff’s side. “Shut up Regis,” Geralt grumbled, with no real fire.

“We both made it very clear,” Regis continued.

“I get it, Regis,” Geralt huffed.

“I’m still trying to understand,” Dettlaff interjected, “how you mistook my comment about companionship”.

“I get it, I get it,” Geralt huffed.

Regis forward and pressed a kiss on Geralt’s cheek. “We’re only teasing you, my love,” he said, gently grasping Geralt’s chin and turning his head, kissing him sweetly on the lips. He felt Dettlaff’s fingers push his hair to one side before soft lips pressed to his neck, making Geralt shiver with pleasure. Shuffling back into Dettlaff, he grabbed Regis by the waist and pulled him forward so they were as close as possible, reveling in the comfort and warmth of being sandwiched between his two lovers.

“I know,” he sighed against Regis’ lips before turning to kiss Dettlaff. “Don’t ever stop.”

And for the first time in a long time, Geralt felt like he was exactly where he wanted to be, with exactly who he wanted to be with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this story :) thank you for reading!


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